Transfigured Hearts 4: Certain Necessary Qualities
by MrsTater
Summary: A walk down memory lane makes Remus realise he's not that that different from the boy who cared more about being a loyal friend than a responsible prefect. Will the qualities Tonks sees in him compensate? What do the other Order members think?


_This story follows __**Taking Umbrage**__ in the __**Transfigured Hearts**__ series, and is set after chapter nine of __Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Many thanks to **Godricgal**, the bestest beta ever!_

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**Certain Necessary Qualities**

Opening the front door, Remus closed his eyes and welcomed the gust of cool, crisp autumn air that bathed his face, sweeping through his hair and cleansing his lungs. When he opened them again, the sight of Tonks, sat on the porch steps, _waiting for him_, brought greater relief from the stifling air of number twelve, Grimmauld Place -- which was a good deal weightier than usual tonight as darkness and fear clung tenaciously in musty corners, beyond the reach or power of _Ridikkulus._

Tonks turned. The long locks she'd matched to Ginny Weasley's before dinner slipped over her shoulder, and her dark eyes looked more luminous than usual as they peered up at him through coppery fringe. "What was all that hullabaloo upstairs?"

"Molly's got a nasty boggart."

The door banged shut behind him, abruptly silencing the clamour of adult and teenaged voices within. From the Muggle house next door, rock and roll blared over a wireless. Though not normally to Remus' musical taste, the electric pulse of guitars and steady drumbeats seemed a reprieve from the chaotic sounds of the Black house.

Eyes glittering as they hardened, girlish features etched with concern, Tonks pressed her palms flat on the step, poised to push into a standing position. "Is she okay?"

Remus shrugged and seated himself beside her. It wasn't much of an answer, and Tonks kept her eyes trained on him, obviously expecting further explanation.

Honestly, he had no idea.

His mind turned to tomorrow's mission to escort Harry, Hermione Granger, and the Weasley children safely to King's Cross. Although it wasn't at all surprising that Arthur and Molly treated Harry as part of their family, Remus esteemed them nonetheless for doing so at the increased risk for their own children. _Nasty _did not go far enough to describe Molly's boggart. _Silly_, he'd said upstairs, to help Molly pull herself together. But there was nothing silly about her children, about Harry--

"Remus?" Tonks' knees touched his as she turned more into him, one firm hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Are _you _all right?"

"Hm? Oh. Yes, fine. Just thinking."

He reached across his chest, turning slightly into her, and covered her hand with his in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

"I cannot imagine being a parent in times like these," he said. "Arthur and Molly must be terrified."

How well he remembered thinking the same of James and Lily. Certainly he admired their courage to start a family; if _he _were so lucky to find love in the world, he'd be terrified to bring a child into it before it was safe. And what was safety, anyway? Did peace ever last? If the Potters had lived, they would be fighting the same battle over again for Harry--

"According to my mum and dad," Tonks' voice broke into his thoughts again, "being a parent's frightening all the time."

In the midst of his melancholy, Remus felt his inner Marauder awake.

"I expect so," he said, "when one is the parent of a child who lacks the 'certain necessary qualities' for being a prefect."

Her hand fell away from his shoulder as she let out a huffy snort -- but her eyes glinted with amusement.

Stretching his legs more comfortably over the steps, crossing them at the ankles, Remus continued, "I imagine the dynamic between you and your mother was something like that between Molly and the twins."

"You know," said Tonks, flicking her long, coppery hair over her shoulder so that it hit Remus in the face, "Fred and George say only prats are prefects."

"Hmm...Kneazle's out of the bag," he said in a low tone, tilting his head toward hers. "I'm a prat."

Tonks pursed her lips, trying to keep an offended expression, but the corners of her mouth twitched with the effort, and her dancing eyes also belied her.

"I reckon that means I've always fancied prats." Twining her arm through his, wrapping her slim, cool fingers around his forearm, bared by his rolled-up shirtsleeve, she continued, "I must've had crushes on all of the prefects when I was at Hogwarts. Except the Slytherin ones, of course."

"Of course. Slytherin prefects truly _are_ prats."

"Oh, they're worse than prats. They're a lot of sodding great--"

"And certainly not worth your time," Remus interrupted before she could access her more choice vocabulary. "Although," he added, "I doubt any of the boys were worth _your_ time."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he thought he might have stepped across the fine line between charming and cheesy, but Tonks flashed him a bright grin and hugged his arm.

"Maybe not," she said, "but it didn't stop me from wasting time trying to get them to notice me."

Remus noted that her laughter was directed inward as a far away expression softened her features. For a moment, he thought he saw the scene she must be remembering; it was easy to picture the first-year version of Tonks rapidly changing hair colours and tripping through the halls of Hogwarts. But Remus realised he couldn't put a face to the prefect she was trying to impress. He' d forgotten, for a moment, that they'd not attended school together. They shared experiences, but not memories.

"Thank your lucky stars you weren't at school with me, Remus." Tonks trailed her fingers up and down the inside of his arm, making gooseflesh prickle up over his skin, even under his sleeve. "You'd have had a right stalker."

Remus saw the same younger Tonks, though not a Gryffindor, sat squashed between him and Sirius in the Quidditch stands. "That would've been nice," he said, leaning his head close to hers so that his lips brushed her temple. She shivered against him, and he smiled.

"If you _like_ being hounded by girls who morph constantly whenever you're around to get your attention and trip in front of you so you've got to catch them."

"I don't seem to mind it now, do I?" He kissed her again.

"I ought to hex you for that," said Tonks, her grin and laughing eyes incongruous with her threatening words, "except I think there was a compliment in there."

"Clumsily made--"

"--in the spirit of a prat prefect--"

"--_former _prat prefect. But yes. There was a compliment in there. And a kiss or two..." His lips trailed down to her cheekbone. "...or three or four..."

When he drew back from her, Tonks was regarding him with an expression he couldn't quite identify. She looked pleased, of course, but her smile was different to her usual wide grin. It held a contemplative quality.

And it made Remus' insides do the same acrobatic stunts as before he'd been Sorted on his arrival at Hogwarts.

"Incidentally," he said quickly in the attempt to quell the feeling, "did you ever hex a prefect?"

"'Course!" One corner of her mouth hitched into a lopsided grin. "That was one of my behavioural issues."

"I see. And what was your preferred hex?"

"My bat-bogey's better than Ginny's. Fancy a stroll?"

The abrupt switch of her train of thought, along with the accompanying leap to her feet, was slightly dizzying, and made Remus realise he was still a bit off-kilter from the incident with Molly's boggart. He accepted her outstretched hand as much for balance as to indicate he liked the idea of a walk. Their fingers laced together as they descended the steps, and instantly the world tilted once more at the proper angle of its axis.

When they reached the pavement, Remus steered them toward number eleven, away from the pounding Muggle music which, now that Tonks had distracted him sufficiently from the evening's troubles, he found repetitive and grating.

No longer under the shelter of the covered doorway, the chilly autumn breeze was more noticeable. Remus didn't mind, even though his shirtsleeves were turned up, but Tonks shivered and drew closer to him. He slipped his arm around her, letting his fingers slide briefly through her silky red tresses. His hand settled on her shoulder, and she sighed.

At the soft sound, Remus couldn't stop a Cheshire cat's grin spreading across his face and, impulsively, he slid his hand down her arm, catching her round the waist, and stopped them under the artificial amber light of a street lamp. Tonks' eyebrows crinkled together in question as he turned her to face him, then arched in surprise as he pulled her firmly against him, and bent to kiss her.

For a fraction of a second, she didn't react to his mouth on hers except to gasp. But then he felt her lips smile against his, and _he _gasped as her hands flew up to touch his neck, his face, as she kissed him back fervently.

It was such a flurry of sensation -- the slightly callused pads of her fingertips tracing his jaw, his cheek; her lips pressing eagerly; then opening, the tip of her tongue darting out to coax _his_ lips apart (and he needed little persuasion to do so) -- that hours could have passed, though somehow he was fairly sure it was only a moment before she pulled back, leaning into the cradle of his hands at the small of her back, thumbs settled in the dimples above the waistband of her jeans where her top had ridden up.

Her fingers stroked the hair at his nape. Dark eyes aglow from the lamplight, her gaze felt like the sun on his face.

She hummed in satisfaction. "You'd have been good for me."

Remus wasn't sure whether it was the after-effects of the kiss, or the rather foreign notion she'd just voiced, but he hadn't the faintest idea what she meant. He suspected it was the kiss, because when he opened his mouth to ask, he found he hadn't the wits speak. He probably lacked muscle coordination, as well, but did his best to arch his brows in a questioning way.

To his relief, Tonks understood.

"I would've tried harder to keep out of detention," she explained, her forefinger sending shivers down his neck as she traced hypnotic circles, twisting his hair around it, "so I'd have more time to snog you in broom cupboards."

Remus had leant into her as she'd spoken, and by the time she finished, his forehead rested against hers and her words were a whisper on his face. His arms tightened around her, and as he pulled her body solidly against his, he noticed the swish of her denim jeans brushing his trousers as if someone had cast a Sonorus Spell. In fact, it occurred to him that someone might have done, and his eye darted sidelong at the house, expecting to see Sirius on the porch, or peering out a window, along with the twins, until it occurred to him how ridiculous that was; of course they'd use Extendable Ears. His gaze flicked down to the pavement, in search of the flesh-coloured object, but found nothing.

Though, that might have been due to Tonks' fingers in his hair, and her beautiful eyes drawing his in; they were so thoroughly entrancing that Buckbeak could be looming over her shoulder and he'd never notice.

"A detention-worthy offence in itself," he murmured, lips finding hers again.

This time, there was no doubt of the kiss' brevity. Their mouths had barely melted together before Tonks pulled back to meet his eye with a cheeky twinkle in her own. To Remus' horror, a whimper of disappointment crept into his throat, and he only just managed to squelch the urge.

"A detention-worthy offence..." Her hands moved from around his neck to slide over his shoulders. Her index finger poked him in the chest. "But _you_ wouldn't have given one."

"No," he said with a sheepish chuckle, still struggling to pull himself together. "I am afraid I wasn't a very good prefect. More often than not, I found myself sharing detentions with James and Sirius, instead of keeping them out."

"I'll bet they didn't have to twist your arm," she said. "You've a devilish streak of your own. After all, you're the one snogging in the middle of the street."

"Yes, well," Remus conceded. "But I can't deny I've a tendency not to judge people who don't judge me."

A handful of memories involving Padfoot and Prongs hexing Severus leapt to the front of his mind. How many times had he sat by watching when he ought to have rebuked them?

Sighing, he turned to walk on. "I think you probably have more of the _necessary qualities_ than I."

"Why do you think that?" Tonks asked with a snort of laughter, slipping her hand into his. "Cos I'm mental enough to tease Mad-Eye?"

Remus glanced down at her with a slight smile, but didn't laugh because he knew she was quite serious. He squeezed her hand. "Because you don't seem to require other people's approval."

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Tonks scrunch up her face, and an instant later, the long, fiery hair framing her face became a spiky halo of pink. "I learnt a long time ago that if I might have to give up approval if I want pink hair."

She grinned up at him, and Remus couldn't help but chuckle and squeeze her hand, lacing their fingers together. However, watching her as they continued down the pavement, he noted how her smile faded by increments as she became lost in thought. _Thinking what_? That he wasn't the sort of person to be looked up to, as she had seemed, bizarrely, to do?

Not that he wanted her to have any illusions about him -- but the ironic twist was that he craved her approval as much as anyone's. The thought of losing it, losing _her_, because he'd bluntly told her of his flawed character, made his insides constrict. He could imagine Sirius whacking him on the back of the head and calling him a sodding great prat. Of course Tonks would see his faults soon enough. Why ruin it for himself before inevitable fate ruined it for him?

"I don't think there's anything abnormal about any teenager liking to be liked," Tonks' voice, thankfully, interrupted his train of thought, "and especially with the..."

She'd been looking up at him as she spoke, but at the last second, as her voice trailed away, her gaze drifted downward. Again her toe caught in a crack in the pavement, and oddly she let go his hand. Remus steadied her with a hand on her elbow. The sight of her bottom lip caught between her teeth in that characteristic self-conscious expression of hers made his heart ache just a little bit. He halted their walk just beyond the circle of light from another lamp.

Her face remained down-turned, and though cast in shadow, Remus was fairly certain she was blushing violently. His hand on her elbow slid up to stroke the smooth skin of her upper arm, and the other fingers curled lightly under her chin to tilt her face up to his.

For just an instant her eyes fought to look past his face, over his shoulder, but he summoned them to meet his by finishing her sentence: "Especially with the added insecurity of being a teenaged werewolf."

Tonks nodded.

"I'd have thought the grey hair would have been a clue," he said, "but I'm a fair few years past being a teenager."

"You're only partly grey."

"_Mostly_ grey," Remus amended. Despite an inner voice telling him not to be a bleeding idiot, he went on, "I'm no longer a teenager, but I still like to be liked."

Tonks jutted her chin, almost as if in defiance, and Remus let his hand fall to his side. "Who doesn't?"

"Severus."

Shaking her head, Tonks said, "Don't know that for sure." Snape _might_ like being liked. It's just that he makes it impossible for anyone to test it."

"I'm indifferent to him."

Tonks' laughter seemed to shimmer in the still summer night air of the dreary street. "That's a load of bollocks if I ever heard it."

"What?" Remus chuckled, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Relief, perhaps, that he'd managed to turn the conversation, if not away from himself, into a less serious examination of his shortcomings. "Have you ever seen me be anything but polite to Severus?"

"I may not have learnt any householdy spells from my mum, but I do know a thing or two about being polite. It doesn't count if you're saying polite-_sounding _things just to wind people up."

"I don't say polite-sounding things to Severus just to wind him up!"

Tonks arched one pink eyebrow in a way which, in spite of her features not favouring the Black side of her family tree, reminded Remus of Sirius; he assumed it must be a look she'd inherited from her mother.

She asked, "Did I imagine it last meeting when you said, _'Yes, Severus, thank you. Your bleak outlook is something we all should bear in mind in these ever darkening days'_?"

Not meeting her eyes, because he knew if he did he wouldn't be able to stop himself chuckling, Remus replied, "To be fair, the meeting _had_ gone off on a bit of a rabbit trail with Hestia butting into Emmeline's report about trailing the Malfoys into Madam Malkins' to ask if Emmeline seen that _lovely_ silk russet robe and hat ensemble and didn't she think it would be _just the thing_ for a Halloween party."

"I saw that ensemble," said Tonks, pulling a face, "and _lovely_ wasn't the word for it, and it's not the thing for any sort of party." Frown deepening into a scowl, she added, "But even if Snape agreed, it wasn't exactly being a team player to say the Order wouldn't hold out till Halloween."

"You're forgetting the part about our strategy for holding out being to keep the meeting going till Halloween. That _was _the closest I've ever come to liking him, because we'd passed the three-hour mark and I was as thrilled as he was to be stuck there for three more listening to Emmeline and Hestia go on about party clothes and the party the Order ought to have, and Molly jumping in with a full menu."

"They wanted the meeting to be finished as much as anyone. And it _did _give you the perfect opportunity to wrap up."

"On rather a sombre note."

"Half of us were too busy laughing our heads off at the way you said, _'Yes, Severus' _to think about that"

Her eyes sparkled, then scrunched up as she let go of his hands to clap hers over her mouth and stifle a chortle, as she had done at that meeting. As he had _not _been able to do at that meeting, though he'd desperately wanted to, Remus slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her slender, quivering frame close to his.

"Blimey, Remus," she said, moving her hands from her face to rest against his chest, "has anyone ever told you how funny you are when you're being snarky? Dead sexy, too."

"Funny when I'm being dead sexy?"

"No..." She laughed softly, nervously, as her eyes dropped to his shirt buttons her fingers were fiddling with. "I mean I think you're...sexy snarky."

Remus hated to see her embarrassed, but he was glad she wasn't looking up at him, because that idiotic grin had split across his face. Sexy. A pretty young witch thought _he _-- grey-haired, peaky, scrawny Remus John Lupin -- was sexy. If he had only heard her say it, he'd have been sure he misheard. But he saw it in her eyes, as well. Not that he could really believe it...

"James and Sirius told me quite regularly," he said.

Tonks' dark eyes flicked up to him, and she didn't need to speak for him to read in their teasing twinkle what she was thinking.

Hastily, face hot, he amended, "That I was funny, not sexy. And while I very much appreciate you thinking I'm both..."

He paused for a breath that turned into a sigh which left him feeling deflated. Fingers absently stroking the curve of her waist, he leant back against the street lamp. Why was his conscience working overtime today? To compensate for his state of unemployment? It wasn't fair. He and Tonks were supposed to be sharing kisses now -- not flaws.

But the latter he felt compelled to do. In the days since that Order meeting, vague feelings of guilt had crept up now and again, though he couldn't lay a finger on precisely _why_. It had been the first time he'd conducted a meeting, he'd covered everything on the agenda, and Dumbledore had seemed pleased enough with his report. Still, Remus hadn't been able to shake the sense that he could have done better. In light of this talk of his tendency toward people-pleasing, every thought that had been stirring in his conscience came together to form a coherent whole.

"The fact is," he said, heavily, "Dumbledore placed me in charge. There was no reason the meeting should have gone three hours, but I let everyone have their say, no matter how irrelevant, because I wanted to be fair."

Tonks smiled. "Definitely nothing wrong with being fair."

"Not even if you're doing it so people will think well of you?"

Her eyebrows knit together in a look of perplexity, and she said nothing.

Remus sighed again. He let his fingers slide from her waist, hand falling briefly to his side before raising to rake through his hair.

"And you're right," he went on. "I _was_ playing at polite just to wind Severus up. Merlin knows it's not the first time I've done it."

He swallowed hard as a dozen interactions with Severus as a colleague at Hogwarts flitted past his mind's eye. He remembered telling Harry that he was very lucky to work alongside such a skilled potions master as Severus; whether Harry realised it or not, _lucky _had been uttered with the thought that it was just the sort of luck that always plagued him, that his boyhood mates' nemesis _would be_ the only person capable of brewing Wolfsbane Potion. How narked James would have been -- he'd have been right alongside Harry, convinced Severus would poison Remus in the hope of taking over the Defence post. And so Remus had indulged his passive-aggressive Benton --especially after Severus' nasty stunt with the werewolf lesson. Little wonder Severus had been so quick to out him...

"I wasn't cut out for prefect," he said, "because it mattered too much to me that people thought well of me."

He thought of how he'd joked to Harry earlier in the evening about not carrying out the Headmaster's expectation that he would keep James and Sirius out of trouble. He'd failed Dumbledore even more dismally by not telling him about Sirius, and by nursing the grudge against Severus that never really had been _his _grudge.

"I have not changed." He hung his head--

--but looked up again when Tonks playfully jabbed his chest with her index finger.

"You have so. You're always intervening between Sirius and Molly. There are worse character flaws than liking approval, you know? And anyway, you've got that from everyone in the Order, except Snape, who we've established doesn't count."

Her hand opened, and her eyes dropped to watch her fingers stroke the worn fabric of his shirt. For just a second she caught her lower lip between her teeth, then she said, "And don't I make up for him by doing a lot more than just _liking_ you?"

Remus' argument died on his tongue when she peered up through pink lashes.

"Remus Lupin likes being liked," Tonks said, with a smile that made her eyes scrunch and twinkle. "Does he fancy being fancied, as well?"

The quiet voice of his conscience told him that a pair of girlish hands sliding up to his neck, her fingers twining into the hair at his nape, couldn't absolve him; it wasn't half as convincing as the voice he associated with the pounding of his pulse in his ears, or the warming of his skin at her touch, which urged him to settle his hands on her hips and draw her against him. She wasn't hard on him; she wouldn't let him be hard on himself...

_Like Padfoot and Prongs._

"Yes," Remus answered, hardly able to speak above a whisper for hitch in his chest, "very much."

He felt the vibration of her laughter and the tickle of her hair as she rested her chin on his shoulder, pressing her smooth cheek to his. "I'm glad you're flawed that way."

He turned his face into her, lips brushing her cheek as he asked, "Are you?"

She shivered, and her arms tightened around his neck. His hands slid round to rest in the curve of her back.

"Mm," she murmured. "Cos I feel bad behaviour coming on."

"What sort?"

"The sort where I drag you to that telephone box on the corner behind you and snog you senseless."

Tonks raised her head, leaning back slightly in his arms to meet his eye. She waggled her brows, looking as though expecting him to be scandalized. Clearly she'd forgotten about the devilish streak they'd just established he had -- the devilish streak which, at the moment, found her slightly defiant expression as sexy as she apparently found his snark.

Remus glanced over his shoulder at the telephone box. The thought of being in such close quarters with her _was _appealing; though it wasn't so bad here, either, with the lamppost to his back, and her slender, curved form resting snugly against his front. He tightened his arms around her and twitched his eyebrows back.

"I think we should stay right where we are," he said.

Her eyes widened in surprise, even as her grin spread, and Remus couldn't remember her looking more glowing and beautiful.

"Why, Prefect Lupin, I didn't think you were the sort to snog in the common room."

Chuckling low, he replied, "Obviously I'm not, or we'd be in a bit more of a public place than this vacant street."

Tonks turned to look over her shoulder and, to Remus' dismay, let go of him with one hand to wave it indicatively at the row of houses behind them. At least he had the consolation of being able to admire the curve of her neck, which he hadn't been able to do earlier in the night, due to her matching her hair to Ginny's.

"This _could__be_ public," she carried on, and his gaze followed the line of her throat up to her jaw, up again over the faint rise of tendon to her parted lips... "At any moment someone could walk out--"

Remus caught her shoulder, and turned her to face him. He barely glimpsed her playful grin falling into a startled look, and then her mouth curving upward again in delight, before he bent and kissed her.

He also barely had time to kiss her before they simultaneously flew apart.

Because someone _had _walked out.

Not out of one of the many houses on Grimmauld Place...

...but out of _number twelve_.

If it had only been the unmistakable booming voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt alerting Remus that they had suddenly been made public, he might not have broken the kiss so abruptly.

But it wasn't _only_ Kingsley's voice.

It was Kingsley's voice accompanied by an even more unmistakable _clomping gait_.

_Alastor Moody_.

Oh. bugger.

Remus closed his eyes. Earlier he'd been paranoid about Sirius or the twins playing voyeur. Now he wished it was any, or even all, of the above. He'd know how to handle a prankster catching him kissing a young woman. But what in Merlin's name did you do when you got caught kissing by someone who could look straight through you?

Or rather, what did you do when you got caught kissing by someone who, as Remus discovered when he opened his eyes again, wasn't looking _through_ you, but _at _you with that strange, roving magical eye?

Remus had never been put off by Moody's eye; he'd found his claw-footed wooden leg much more disturbing. But that was before he'd been properly sized up by Mad-Eye, who looked very much like how Remus had pictured Mr. Evans when James described meeting Lily's family.

And James had wealth and brilliance and prospects and every other necessary quality to recommend _him_.

"It _could be _public," Remus muttered.

For the first time ever since he'd met her, he was annoyed to hear Tonks laugh. It was all very well for her; _she _wasn't the one who was going to be transfigured into a ferret. Which, really, given he already turned into an animal once a month against his will, was the very last thing he needed. Not to mention the bouncing. Perhaps Mad-Eye would take that into consideration before he whipped out his wand...

The gnarled finger Mad-Eye pointed, and glared over the end of, was nearly as disconcerting.

"Constant vigilance," he growled.

"They looked pretty vigilant to me," said Kingsley, smirking.

Tonks' hands flew to her hips. "Do you expect anything less from an Auror?"

A cheeky grin broke through her efforts to stop it, belying her imposing stance. Thankfully, it drew Mad-Eye's penetrating gaze, as well.

Well -- it drew the gaze of _one_ eye. The magical one remained fixed on Remus as Mad-Eye clunked down the porch, and glowed even more eerily when he drew the putter-outer from his pocket and the electric street lamp shut off with a buzz.

"We've an early morning, Tonks," said Mad-Eye, "getting the kids off to King's Cross."

Her arms moved from her hips to fold across her chest, and she jutted one hip out. "I'll be home by eleven -- _Dad_."

Kingsley's rich chuckle rang out as he joined the group under the extinguished street lamp. Since Moody's eye was still trained on him, Remus forced himself not to laugh. Hopefully he managed not to look as admiring of Tonks' brass neck as he felt.

To his relief, Mad-Eye turned his scowl on her. "We'll need you undercover, remember. You decided how you're going?"

"Yeah -- as your mum." As Tonks spoke, her smooth skin wrinkled, sagged, and spotted with age; her pink spikes coiled tightly against her head and dulled to iron grey.

"Not here!" Mad-Eye hissed, both eyes darting around in every direction. "The Muggles!"

"It's _dark_, Mad-Eye," said Tonks in a tone of amused exasperation, shifting back into her youthful, pink-haired form. "And we haven't seen a Muggle all bloody night."

Mad-Eye muttered something about Tonks looking nothing like his mum, and she didn't miss a beat with her response. Unfortunately, Remus didn't catch it, or even get to watch her animated body language (which, in spite of his fear that he wouldn't spend tonight in his human form, he found himself enjoying), since at the same time Kingsley leant toward him and said, "Try not to picture the old lady morph when you two get back to being vigilant."

Trying not to be annoyed at Kingsley for distracting him, Remus said, "She's been known to ruin a romantic moment by morphing into Dolores Umbridge."

Kingsley's eyes bulged almost as far out from his head as Mad-Eye's magical one did. "That's just _sick_, Tonks. Tell me you didn't do that."

Tonks grinned at him -- and winked at Remus -- over Mad-Eye's grizzled head. "Only once!"

"Once is too much," said Kingsley.

"I concur," said Remus, voice a bit pinched as his collar suddenly felt too tight. Which was odd, because the top button was undone. He reached back to scratch his neck. Merlin, Tonks was a little firecracker. He'd known a few spirited women, but none of them had been _quite_ like her, with as irresistible effect on him as he thought must be comparable to being under the Imperius Curse. That cheeky, lopsided curve of her mouth begged to be kissed; her thrust out hip ought to have _his _open palm resting on it, and not her balled fist...

As if he'd seen Remus fiddling with his collar -- or worse, seen Remus' fantasies -- Mad-Eye turned suddenly and narrowed the real eye at him. "If you're not alert enough to Apparate, Tonks," he said, jerking his head back toward her, "I'll see you home."

"Come on, Mad-Eye." Sniggering, Kingsley actually dared to lay a large hand on the retired Auror's shoulder, and steer him toward the alley Apparition point. "I'm sure Tonks is alert enough, and if she's not, Remuswill look after her."

Once again, Mad-Eye looked Remus over with open scepticism, but this time, thanks partly to Kingsley's light attitude, and mostly to his attraction to Tonks' cheek, Remus saw the humour of the situation. Mad-Eye's normal paranoia was channelling itself into protectiveness toward the youngest Auror and member of the Order, who was like family to him. Mad-Eye always had possessed that streak of gruff compassion.

That was, when he wasn't transfiguring people into ferrets.

At least now Mad-Eye seemed to have given up on playing chaperone. Shrugging off Kingsley's hand, he fell into step beside him.

But when Kingsley waved good night, Mad-Eye's head whipped over his shoulder, and he called, "Just remember--"

"Constant vigilance," Tonks finished for him, seizing Remus' hand and threading their fingers together. "We know. We'll snog with our eyes open, okay?"

Though his collar was painfully restrictive now, as he swallowed hard, and his face was on fire, Remus thought it didn't seem like such a bad idea to keep his eyes open as he kissed Tonks. Only he suspected it would make him a good deal less aware of their surroundings than Mad-Eye would have preferred. Merlin, he hoped his flushed face threw Mad-Eye off from what was actually going on in Remus' head.

The magical eye roved down their arms, and glared at their joined hands. "Better keep your wand hand free--"

"For Merlin's sake, Mad-Eye!" Kingsley's laughing voice drifted back. "Stop harassing them! Lord knows they don't get a lot of time to get up to much..."

The words trailed away as they rounded the corner, but his rumbling chuckle echoed faintly out, accompanied by a rasping sound.

"If I didn't know any better," said Remus, slowly, "I'd say that was Mad-Eye..._laughing_."

"Course it was! You're not the only one who likes to wind people up."

Remus turned to her. "He did _not_ wind me up."

Tonks let go of his hand and sniggered behind hers. "He did. You got all petrified when he looked at you."

"Yes, well..." Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, he stepped toward Headquarters. "I wouldn't be surprised if his eye's capable of casting _Petrificus Totalis_. Or of turning people into ferrets." He looked sidelong at Tonks, catching up to him. " I was sure he would do -- no thanks to you."

"_Me_?"

"If the way you speak to Mad-Eye is any indication of how you spoke to your professors in school, I see yet another prefect quality you lacked."

Tonks snorted. "The brown-nosing git one? Think I'm glad I didn't make prefect, after all."

"Only prats are prefects."

Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his. "Mad-Eye likes it when I talk to him that way."

Out the corner of his eye, Remus saw her cut her eyes up toward him in a distinctly flirty way. In a tone to match, she added, "And I think you do, too."

Light enveloped them as they reached the lamp in front of number twelve. Remus stopped in the amber circle, and Tonks let go of his arm as he leant against the post.

"I do rather like it," he said, "when it's not putting me in danger of being turned into a ferret--"

"You were _not_ in danger of being turned into a ferret!"

Her arm shot out, as if to swat or pinch him, but Remus caught her hand and closed his fingers around her smaller ones.

"The feeling is mutual, you know. Entirely."

His heart thudded, then stood still as her dark eyes locked with his; he felt the pulse in her wrist skip a beat against the heel of his hand.

"What feeling?" she asked, breathlessly.

Remus knew that if he answered, he would sound the same. His mouth felt very dry. He swallowed, and moistened his lips. Was it his imagination, or did her gaze flicker downward to follow his tongue as it darted out? It seemed impossible she could look at him that way, but she _had _said...

"Your snark," he blurted. "I think it's sexy."

He felt the heat begin to prickle up from his collar, but that was soon far less noticeable than her body moving forward, and his own sliding up straight against the lamppost as she softly pressed her lips to his.

It happened so quickly, and so quietly, before Remus could blink. So he saw her lips part, and then touch his, and he fought the natural urge to close his eyes -- as Tonks had joked Mad-Eye about -- because he had to see more.

He'd always been pleased at how eagerly she responded to his kisses, but it had never occurred to him _quite _how intent she was on him until he saw her lashes closed against her pale cheek. He saw his own thrilled response: his hand sliding up from hers, over her shoulder, down her back, pulling her closer against him; he saw his other hand stroke her face, rake into her hair, pink strands weaving between his fingers.

He also saw, behind her, number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Lights shone from every window, many of which had wide open drapes and sashes raised to air out the mouldy place. Remus' heart raced -- and not because Tonks' arms had just slipped over his shoulders, hands curling round his neck as she rose up on her toes to deepen the kiss.

_Anyone could be watching._

Worse: _anyone could come out and interrupt._

His hands moved to her sides and gently pushed her back from him, breaking the kiss.

He felt her breath as she whispered his name and her eyes opened slowly, at first on his mouth, and then shifting blearily upward to meet his gaze.

"Remus, what...?

"Mad-Eye's right. This really isn't the best place…"

Her forehead crinkled, and then, hands still on his shoulders, she turned her head to follow his gaze to the house. When she looked at him again, there was a gleam in her eyes, and her smile was teasing.

"I knew you weren't really a common room snogger after all"

"I told you I wasn't."

"What's the matter?" Her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair as she stretched up to nuzzle his cheek. "Don't want anyone else to know what sort of necessary qualities you've got?"

Turning his face into her neck, Remus breathed in her sweet blossomy scent -- cherry today, he thought, instead of the orange she'd worn of late. His lips skimmed the rise of her collarbone, and he murmured against her skin, "Only you."

She made a half-sighing, half-humming sound as she kissed his cheek, which made it impossible for him not to lift his face to peck her lips -- sod whoever might see them.

Well -- not really. When he found himself wanting to kiss her fully, deeply, he cared very much that they had privacy.

He kissed her once more, softly, lingeringly, then looked down to the corner of the street, "I believe I'm open to that phone box suggestion after all."

Laughing quietly, rather subdued for her, Tonks removed her arms from around his neck, settling them on his forearms to put space between them. "Actually, Mad-Eye was also right about us having an early morning. I probably ought to be going."

Remus felt like a bit of a cad for not having realised before now that her gentle kisses, the bleary look in her eyes, and her quiet tone meant she was tired. But he let himself off the hook, seeing as Tonks was glancing at the phone box with a look that could only be regret, and then back at him without anything remotely like it.

"You did promise him you'd be home by eleven," said Remus, slipping his arm around her shoulders as he turned to lead her down the pavement, toward the alley, "and it's..." He delved into his pocket and flipped open his watch. "Well, if you Apparate now, you can just make it. Or..." He thought of what Kingsley had said about looking after Tonks. "Not to insinuate that you're not up to Apparating or otherwise incapable of taking care of yourself, but I could see you home and kiss you goodnight properly. In private."

Arm around his waist, Tonks gave him a sideways hug as they walked. "That's gallant."

Remus loved that though she was a career witch, she allowed him to indulge in the old-fashioned romantic acts that seemed to come so naturally to him. He hoped that it went a little way in all he couldn't give her in the way of nights out, flowers, and gifts.

"Quite selfish, in fact," he said. "I'm more thinking of the kisses I'd miss out on if I were a ferret."

"Oh." Tonks stopped at the corner and looked up at him with an expression of mock concern. "Though it's not as if my doorstep's really more private than Grimmauld Place. You know how people come and go."

"But none of them are _Mad-Eye_," Remus said, his hands cupping her heart-shaped face.

"In that case, let's snog and run."

"I really was an awful prefect," Remus murmured, as his lips found hers.

"Mm...I believe it. But you've got all the necessary qualities of a really wonderful kisser.

Peals of laughter and the crack of Apparition pierced the quiet of the summer night.

_The End_

* * *

_**A/N: Those who review get their choice of Remus to kiss: boyish Remus, who steals sweet kisses at private moments when there's no chance of being caught; Marauder Remus, who gets a thrill out of kissing in a semi-public, and very small place like a phone box; or roguish Remus, who's so chuffed at going out with you that he'll kiss anywhere, anytime, and with great enthusiasm.**_


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